Self-Care Is Medicine

How do you make time for self-care?

If my nervous system is not at rest, my body wavers. When my body breaks down, an immune disorder that looks a lot like inflammation and feels much like hammers on my skin comes waving its shitty little hands shouting, “Remember me?”

“Yes, bitch. I remember you with your cackling tongue and taunting face. I know how you lurk in the shadows hoping I’ll feed you.”

Self-care is a daily necessity no different than showering or brushing my teeth or drinking enough water and making sure I’ve had the right amount of protein.

Self-care for me is not always long baths, massages or pedicures. Often it’s some soft music and an hour with a collage art page. Or laying on my yoga mat with a pillow under my butt to give my sacrum some release. That’s where the stress likes to hang out, down there in the cauda equina.

It looks like no sugar in my diet and not caving to cravings, or a FaceTime call with my grandkids to laugh at their antics.

It’s hot tea with cinnamon in the evening while watching a comedy show. It’s staying away from anyone and anything that does not serve my growth, calm and way forward.

It’s revoking access to assholes and being highly particular about whose energy I allow in my sphere. It’s walking around my house to get in additional steps and knowing that this is enough on days when I struggle to make it to the trails.

It’s being here, like I am now, writing on a prompt intended to share the many aspects of this trauma healing journey. It’s not about making time for self care. It’s about making self-care part of my life in a way that it becomes part of every day basic needs.

Self-care is rooting my existence in self-acceptance, refusing comparison, locking into an ever-evolving purpose and letting myself be in flow state.

The point of self-care as I have learned it has been about anything that makes my nervous system exhale. If my body clenches or freezes, it’s not for me. That’s the tell. When I’m clenching, things are off. When my muscles are relaxed, I’m on point.

It’s the little things, like washing my face in warm water and gently massaging Vitamin E into my skin. It’s letting my grey hair grow in and falling in love with its shimmer. It’s seeing the signs of aging on my face and reading the wisdom these years have gifted me.

It’s caring for the self I understand without cliches or pressure; with free choice and no interruption, in solitude and with self-respect.

That’s self-care for me. What is it for you?

Speaking of self-care ➻ these are a few of my favorite things ➻